


Encounter with the Runaway TARDIS

by gibbytod



Category: Doctor Who, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gibbytod/pseuds/gibbytod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an ordinary jaunt in the TARDIS goes awry, Donna is stranded on the strangest starship she's ever seen with aliens she's never heard of on a mission no one seems to know anything about.  Now she has to work with the uncertain crew of the Enterprise to rescue the Doctor, mend a tear in the fabric of space, and save not one, but two entire universes before they merge with catastrophic consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. With Love, from Not-Paris

The warm light of an early morning had just filled the front room of the small café when the owner flipped his sign to say, “ _Ouvert_.”  With a content, hopeful smile, he propped open the creaky wooden door and let the smell of fresh baguettes waft out into the promenade. 

He glanced out to see which of his neighbors were opening as well, giving each a gentle wave before going back inside.  He returned a minute later carrying a few simple items to set up his outdoor tables: napkins, spice shakers, olive oil, small candles, not enough to crowd the small settings but enough to evoke that hominess his customers claimed was his hallmark. 

Satisfied, he retrieved a steaming mug of coffee and the morning’s newspaper, settled himself in the foremost of the outdoor chairs, and began his regular morning wait for the first customer.  It was a routine he never deviated from, as with all in this secluded corner of Paris; it was a pattern uninterrupted day to day by any occurrence out of the ordinary. 

Within a few minutes the first morning amblers had wandered into the promenade.  They too received the owner’s gentle wave, and more than a few waved back.  The usual accordionist set up a few shops down and filled the area with soft tunes appropriate for the early day.  The owner smiled; his was a picturesque existence which he had no wish to end or change. 

The owner reached for his coffee when a loud, wheezing, windy noise filled the air.  It came in and out repeatedly, getting louder and more substantial with each return.  In the center of the promenade, a ghost-like image had appeared and was vanishing and reappearing in time with the noise, and, like the noise, was swiftly gaining substance.  The owner blinked twice and a giant wooden blue box sat before him.  The noise had ceased. 

The door on the box swung inward and the echo of rapid chatter came pouring out.  “…but she had told me under no circumstance was she going to set a single foot outside, not with that disturbance on the loose, and I said, ‘Mum, I swear, I am not going to be in Paris without actually going _into Paris_ ,’ but, you know her, it was all sobs and worry and shouts until finally I couldn’t take it anymore and I just stayed in the whole bloody time while Granddad paraded about-”

A woman with fiery red hair stepped out of the box and stopped her chatter when she took in her surroundings.  Her wide smile vanished as she let out an exasperated gasp.  “No, no, c’mon, you can’t do this to me again!”

A hearty, slightly put out male voice echoed out to her, “Donna, we cannot possibly be anywhere other than Paris this time, I have septuple-checked the coordinates, rerouted the nav systems at _least_ twice, replaced the geogyrostabilizers in both sockets…”

Without turning, Donna shouted back, “Don’t techno-babble at me, space man, I’m telling you, I am standing here, looking about, and I don’t see any bloody Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame or-”

“ _Notre Dame_?” the owner piped up.

Donna turned on him quickly.  “What’d you say?”

The owner folded his newspaper politely.  “I asked,” he said in heavily accented English, “does _mademoiselle_ wish to see the cathedral _Notre Dame_?”

Slightly flattered, Donna insisted, “Yes, mademoiselle would very much like to see Notre Dame.”

The owner grinned.  “Is very close, _mademoiselle_ , just over the river.  I can show a map?”

Donna looked surprised.  “Oh it’s here?  This is Paris?”

The owner laughed and nodded.  He stood and meandered back into his shop, leaving Donna in the promenade.  She stood, arms firmly folded, a look of agitation thinly masking her excitement.  She tapped her foot in time with the accordion music echoing across to her, uninterrupted by the scene in front of the cafe. 

After a few moments, she wondered if the owner had forgotten about her and made a move towards the café to check on him.  Behind her, the creaky door of the box slammed shut with a crack and the wheezing noise started up again, faster and with a more urgent sound.

Donna spun around.  “No no no no no no no don’t you do this to me _NO_!!!”  She ran to the box, arm raised to grab the door, but by the time she arrived her hand was grasping at empty air. 

“Dammit, space man, get your skinny backside back here, you hear me?  Come _back_!”  Her voice was shrill with effort. 

“Doctor!” she yelled.  “ _Doctor_!!!”

“ _Mademoiselle,_ I have a map!” the owner called cheerfully.  Donna slowly turned back around, breathing heavily. 

“What?”  She looked disoriented and afraid.  The owner’s kind smile vanished in concern. 

“Oo, oo,” he tutted.  “No worrying, _mademoiselle,_ no worrying!  I have a map, I show you _Notre Dame,_ all will be well!”  He gestured for her to sit. 

“No-notre Dame?” she sputtered through her clenched jaw.  “I don’t need to get to Notre Dame anymore, are you bloody blind?  I need to get my ride back!”

The man just tutted more and continued pointing at the chair.  “Rest, breathe, I get you a coffee, all will be well, all will be well.”

Donna stood, opening and closing her mouth in frustration, before giving up with a loud sigh and stomping over to the seat.  The owner gave her a satisfied nod, put his hand out in a gesture that clearly said, “Wait here,” and returned to the café. 

Donna sighed again.  Her eyes wandered the promenade and settled on the accordionist.  A small crowd had gathered around him and he was playing a bouncy waltz for a few dancing children.  Her brow furrowed in confusion.  She glanced around the rest of the promenade.  All the shops were open now and people were filtering in and out as if nothing had been amiss.  She sat up in her chair and called for the café owner. 

He hurried out, somehow managing to remain pleasant even doing that, carrying a tray and a mug of coffee. 

“Here, here, _mademoiselle_ , drink!”  He began setting everything out for her despite her attempts to redirect his attention. 

“No, no, please, I don’t need coffee, I need you to tell me, that box, that big blue box…”  She grabbed the owner’s arm.  He looked up at her with concern. 

“The box,” she repeated, “did you see the box?”

The man was still for a moment, but his concern vanished instantly as he gently removed his arm from her hand and resumed chattering about Notre Dame.   Donna sat back, mouth open in shock and frustration.  She accepted the mug that was thrust into her hands but made no move to taste it.  The owner saw that he had lost her attention, and, after arranging the table, moved to the next table over and resumed his paper. 

Donna was surprised by his sudden disinterest.  She opened her mouth to regain his attention when a pair of cheerful voices from the nearest entrance to the promenade interrupted her. 

“…told the ambassador that he should be careful around the buffet during the reception, but of course, he didn’t listen, and, of course, I had to deal with the consequences.  Keiko and I are going to be scrubbing my station for months to get all the mess off,” a bright woman’s voice announced.

“Well, put concern where concern is due.  We’re lucky only your station has suffered any real damage.  We have the ambassador’s good nature to thank for that,” a deep, elegant man’s voice returned. 

Around the corner stepped two figures that stood in stark contrast to the people in the promenade.  They were clearly in uniforms, black with a bar of color on the shoulders, the woman in blue with a blue coat over top, and the man in red.  She had long ginger locks, he was bald, and they walked and talked like old friends. 

They were headed straight to the café.  Donna held her mug in front of her face, trying to look inconspicuous as they approached. 

The woman let out a long breath.  “I know it’s not real, but if I close my eyes, I can almost pretend like it really is Paris again.  Certainly smells good enough.  Do you always set it to have the coffee ready right as we arrive?”

The bald man smiled.  “Well, one shouldn’t have to wait for anything in a program, and you’re right,” he took a deep breath.  “It does add to the atmosphere.”

The pair were almost to the first table when an odd chirp interrupted them.  Both their faces fell and the man wearily tapped a silver badge on his chest. 

“Go ahead.”

“ _Captain, we detected something in the last subspace sweep we think you ought to see_.”

The man pursed his lips.  “Just this moment, Number One?”

“ _It’s chroniton radiation, sir._ ”

“Chronitons?”

“ _Yes, sir._ ”

“Well, I suppose that does merit some attention.  I’m on my way.”  He tapped the badge again and turned to his companion. 

“Shall we try for tomorrow?”

The woman smiled.  “Only if I can get anything done today with a toxic-waste-covered work station.”

The man laughed.  “I’d tell Worf to take a phaser to it if it would ensure we could finally have our breakfast together.”

The two turned back out the promenade as the man called out, “Computer, end program.”

The chair vanished from beneath Donna.  She landed with a thud and a sharp cry as the entire promenade disappeared, leaving only a black room covered in a yellow grid.  The pair spun around and froze in their tracks.  Their wide eyes met Donna’s with equal panic. 

“What…” the man began in shock.

“…the _hell_?!” Donna shouted.  Paris was _gone._


	2. Chapter 2

“Computer, end program,” the man repeated. 

“What the hell did you do to Paris?” Donna yelled from the ground. 

“Computer, save and end all programs,” the man insisted.  Donna furiously pushed herself up.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are but you had better tell me right this instant where I am and _what you did to Paris_?!” 

“Compu-” the man began.  “Jean-Luc,” the woman interrupted.  “I don’t think she’s part of the program.”

“Impossible, how did she get in here?” the man retorted.

“She’s gonna slap you if you keep calling her ‘she,’” Donna snapped, stomping forward.

The man raised his arms.  “Alright, then please, tell us who you are and how you got here.”  His voice had a practiced calm that his confused and fascinated eyes did not reflect. 

Donna folded her arms and huffed, “I’m Donna Noble from Chiswick, in England, on Earth, and I’ve got no bloody idea how I got here because I don’t even know where the bloody hell here is, so if anybody’s gonna start explaining anything, it’s gonna be you.”

“Please, there’s no need to be alarmed, you’re quite safe here.”  The man spoke slowly and deliberately.  “My name is Jean-Luc Picard, and this is Beverly Crusher.  We’re also from Earth.  In fact, I’ve visited Chiswick before.”

“Oh, have you?”

Picard nodded.  “Yes, but it was some time ago.”  He paused.  “If you will permit it, Beverly is a doctor, and I think it would be a good idea for her to…examine you, it might provide some answers.”

Donna’s eyes widened.  “You’re not putting me on any examination table, I’m as human as you are!”

Dr. Crusher stepped forward with a reassuring smile.  “We just want to confirm that.  And we won’t even have to go anywhere.”  She reached under her coat and pulled out a gray tool that beeped when she flipped it open.  She held it up for Donna to see.  “I can use this to scan you to get readings on things like vital signs.  You won’t feel anything.”

Still uncertain, Donna stiffened as Dr. Crusher waved the device in front of her.  It took only a moment for Dr. Crusher to pull back again, confusion filling her face. 

Donna was struck with concerned curiosity.  “What, what’s it saying?  What’s wrong?”

“Captain, I’m reading… _something_.  The tricorder is saying it’s chroniton radiation, but the levels are impossibly high, and it’s coming from her.”

“Chroniton?” Donna interjected.  “What’s that?  The voice, from earlier, the man, he said the same thing.”

Picard looked up at her suddenly.  “You heard that?”

“Yeah, ’course I did.  You two were louder than that whole bloody square, speaking of which you still have to tell me what happened to it!”

Picard opened his mouth to answer but Dr. Crusher cut him off.  “Captain, I can’t be sure whether or not these levels of radiation are dangerous.  I’ve never encountered a concentration like this in a single place, much less a person.  I want to get her to Sickbay, I can remove the radiation there, but until she’s clean I’m not confident she won’t be adversely affected.”

Picard nodded.  “I agree.  In the meantime it seems we have further excuse to investigate this radiation.”  He tapped the badge on his chest.  “Picard to Bridge.”

“ _Bridge here._ ”

“Commander, are we still in the vicinity of that chroniton radiation?”

“ _Aye, sir._ ”

“Good.  Begin preliminary sensor sweeps, and have Mr. Data bring a team down to Holodeck 3.  We appear to have picked up some unexpected guests,” he finished with a pointed glance at Donna.


End file.
